


you say the word (i'll say goodbye)

by littlefoxfires



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Friendship, I try humor, Infidelity, M/M, Raven Reyes-centric, Underage Drinking, i fail at humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefoxfires/pseuds/littlefoxfires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Raven Reyes finds her boyfriend cheating on her with Clarke Griffin, she hopes to never see her again. Those hopes are quickly dashed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you say the word (i'll say goodbye)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the worst. 
> 
> I was thinking about the stories I read where Raven and Clarke become friends after Finn two-timing them, but I never found one that details the journey. Personally, I think it would be rare to not feel resentful and insecure and maybe irrational if someone you'd spent your whole life with fucked someone else. Even if the "other woman" has no idea. So I started this. I also wanted to write something where Raven never wants to see Clarke again, but then slowly realizes that Clarke actually has relationships with everyone she hangs out with, and each chapter centered on a different character. I thought it would be funny. That being said, I don't write actual humor. So, I pretty sure I failed. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings (!!!): infidelity/cheating, underaged drinking, sexual content, language.

The first time Raven meets Clarke Griffin, her boyfriend is inside of her. They’d done everything together, she and Finn—grew up in the one of bad parts of Los Angles. He was the boy next door, all bright idealism and perfect smile and great hair, and Raven loved him instantly. He was bright. Before she met him, she was pretty dark. College changed things, maybe, because she walks into his dorm, the one he shares with some kid named Wells Jaha (who is nice and kind enough to put in earplugs and pretend she and Finn aren’t across the tiny room going at it). And he’s moving on top of her, and for a second Raven doesn’t react, just sort of watches his shoulder muscles moving and his ass snapping back and forth, and listening the breathy noises coming from the girl (yeah, Clarke, she finds out, later, but right now she’s just a stupid slut) and feeling her heart tear, t _ear_ , like rip apart in her chest. She sort of feels like she might vomit, as well. Or scream really loud.

And, for some reason, the girl looks up, and they connect eyes, and she’s startled—of course, because there’s some girl with a broken radio and a tool box, standing there watching her get fucked. Everything happens in slow motion, for some reason—and then she jumps in surprise, eyes widening, and something like, “Oh, my _God,”_ and scrambling to push Finn off and cover herself and the same time, and when Finn looks back and sees her, the ashen look on his face is a complete contrast to the girl (again, Clarke Griffin, but right now, she’s just a nameless whore) and her bright blush, one that has her face almost glowing. 

No one has said anything. Raven just looking at Finn, her eyes wide and her body somehow both hollow and filled up, and it fucking sucks, because she wants to cry, and she’s only ever cried n front of Finn, been comforted by him, and now it’s his fault she wants to _fucking cry._

 “Finn?” The girl’s voice is sort of wary, and surprisingly not high-pitched, like the valley girls she and Finn make fun of, but Raven doesn’t see her face, she only sees Finn with that puppy dog look that can make her do anything, and his head kind of shaking and he pulls on his boxers, like he’s trying to explain, but can’t really find the words. Which is understandable, because he’s just been caught by his girlfriend of like, forever, having sex with some little blonde cunt (you get the idea, now).

“Who is this?” she continues, and even though Raven can hear that realization in her voice, that hint, maybe not even big enough to be a hint, or a tremor in her voice, Raven snaps.

_”Who the fuck are you?”_ she spits out, charging for her, only to have Finn hold her back, the blonde looks so alarmed, and suddenly, sort of small, but Raven can’t really feel sorry for her, at all. She fucked her boyfriend, so. She pushes Finn back, harshly, and directs her next words at him “Who the fuck is this?”

 She only briefly hears Finn yelling for her to calm down, to which, of course, she yell _, ”Calm down?!”_ in a manner that’s rather cliche, but also _super_ necessary. She’s actually trying to fight him now, pushing at him and aiming hits at him, because he looks so tenderly at her, like he cares, but if he did, he couldn’t be fucking someone else. Raven doesn’t even notice the girl leaving. She’s too busy trying to beat up Finn, and only when she realizes she’s crying is when she’s pushing him (get off me, _don’t touch me_ ), picking up her shit, and leaving.

—-

And then, of course, she goes to the one person that understands how anger needs to be solved. With sex or alcohol or violence, maybe all three, if it comes to that. 

Despite having only known him for a couple of months, Bellamy Blake would probably be her best friend, if he (1)wasn’t a shocking combination of a complete asshole and a complete nerd, (2)wasn’t five years older than her, and (3)wasn’t already best friends with his little sister (how pathetic is that)? He lives in an apartment with said sister/best friend, closer to campus, because he’s some sort of Criminal Justice student, or whatever, Raven doesn’t care, and Octavia Blake is enrolled at the high school. He’s twenty-four (or _whatever_ ) and has only just started school about two years ago because he was too busy making sure his sister didn’t end up in a gang or like, starved to death. Which makes him a good guy. 

Truth be told, Raven likes Octavia one-thousand times better than she likes Bellamy. But, she can’t tell who is more of a smug little shit, so she has to pretend to hate them both equally, most of the time.

He’s sort of startled when he answers the door, maybe because she usually uses a key he has no idea how she obtained and her eyes are puffy from crying and she’s carrying a broken radio and a toolbox. Like previously stated, she only cries in front of Finn, and that thought is racing through her head as she starts to actually sob, to her complete and utter _horror._ His eyes are wide with mortification, as well, as he ushers her in gingerly, like, with a single finger.

But, when they get to the couch, he goes for it, actually hugs her, so in between choking sobs and hiccups into his shoulder, she tries to maintain her cool factor, and says, “If you ever t-tell anyone about this I’ll fucking k-kill you and-and-and blackmail Jasper into stealing sodium hydroxide from one of the Chem Labs and m-make him help me dissolve your body and-and-and like flush your remains down a _drain.”_  

He stiffens, chokes a little, on a laugh, maybe, “Right.”

Later on, she’s stopped crying, but she still feels rage bubbling on every surface, which is good, because without it? She’d just feel so sad. 

“He was fucking her. Like, going at it,” she snorts self-deprecatingly, “She was all like,” Raven makes her voice sort of low, like the girl’s was, like raspy, but she doesn’t quite get it, so it ends up just being gravely, “ _Oh, my God, yes, ohhh!’_ Bitch.”

Bellamy laughs, hard, in that booming way of his, “Don’t ever do that again. Please. I’m _begging_ you—“

Raven sinks into the couch, not really sure about what to do. Now, she feels suspended. Things have never been anything but perfect with Finn. Sure, they’ve had little disagreements, but never a _fight._ She’s not sure how she fits in without him. 

Bellamy has his brow furrowing in concern, and he starts to speak, must have noticed her sad silence, “I told you from the jump I didn’t like him.”

Raven takes a swing of her beer. Her feet are up in his lap, which Bellamy usually doesn’t stand for, but he must figure she’s having a bad day, “Yeah, but I’ve only known you for what, five months. That was only after he told me he didn’t like you.”

His response is a snort, “Well, duh. He’s threatened by me. I’m taller, better-looking. One of my arms is like three of his.”

It’s such an exaggeration, Raven pauses with the bottle to her lips, face screwed up in shock, and then starts to cackle, which must have been the desired effect, because Bellamy breathes out a laugh. 

“I fucking _hate_ you,” she chokes, trying to swallow her beer. And when she can finally breathe, she does look at Bellamy’s arms. They are…nice. Really nice. She looks up, and his eyebrow is raised in a silent, infuriatingly knowing look, that stupid smirk on his face. It’s an okay eyebrow. The rest of his face isn’t bad either. So Raven sets her beer on the dented coffee table and moves across the couch to sit on his lap.  

Bellamy doesn’t even look surprised, but now both of his eyebrows are up in what she can only gather is amusement. They’ve only known each other for the semester and a half she’s been at UCLA, but she can pretty much gather his expressions by now, the times when he doesn’t say anything. She bends down and kisses him, right against his smirk, hard. But he’s just smirking, kind of laughing a little behind his closed mouth, which is annoying, because she’s trying to fucking make out with him. She only pulls back a second because he grabs her by the back of the head with a laugh and kisses her, like she’s never been kissed. 

Or maybe it’s just because she’s never kissed anyone but Finn, he was the first and only, but Raven pushes that to the back of her mind, as well as the guilt, because why does she need to feel _that?_ Or anything, really? Instead, she makes out with Bellamy, who is actually really good at kissing. Maybe because he’s older, or because he’s sort of a slut, or something, but he grips her hair and bites and sucks on her bottom lip, and licks into her mouth, and she’s really into it, the beer helps too—

Bellamy pulls away, breathing heavily, “I can’t.”

Raven’s head is spinning with so many things, but those words snap her back, _”What?”_

He bites his swollen lip just a little, and rolls his eyes, like he’s frustrated with himself, “I can’t fuck you, you’re my friend, it’s…weird.”

She makes a face, “What kind of bullshit? What the fuck are you talking about—“

“And you’re vulnerable, because of Finn, and we’re tipsy, and…whatever.” He sounds so disappointed in himself, and the lines are rehearsed, like he’s reading them off one of the Health Center’s pamphlets. Bellamy sighs in a way that’s almost long-suffering. 

There’s a pregnant pause, and she demands, “What the fuck is going on here? In the months I’ve known you, I have _never_ seen you turn down sex. You will literally fuck anything with a heartbeat and hole.”

Bellamy shrugs, not even a little offended, “I’m just looking out for you—“

“—I am still on your lap, I can feel your boner right now—“

“—It’s a normal physical reaction, you’re very hot—“

“—Are you like…dating someone, or something?”

His _”No!”_ is a _little_ too unnerved to be completely true. Like a smidgen.  

Raven double-takes, dramatically, even though it’s hard because she’s on his lap, “But you like someone. Bellamy Blake. UCLA’s resident hoe. Likes someone. Wants to date someone. Maybe—“ 

_”—Stop.“_

She gasps with melodrama, _“Hold hands?”_  

He shoves her off his lap, to the other side of the couch, and gets up to walk to the kitchen while she continues to taunt him, “Did you ask her father’s permission before courting her?” Raven asks seriously, considerably cheered up, “Do you two walk down the path to the apple tree, hands brushing, but not quite having the courage to clasp? Oh, wait,” she says this part seriously, genuinely curious, “Sorry, are they a girl or a guy?” 

“Fuck. You.”

“Well, damn, Bellamy, I tried! But, apparently, you’re too busy laying out your coat on puddles so your beloved can walk across without getting their shoes all wet and dirty.”

Bellamy stops in front of the table now, a beer in each hand, and his eyes are sort of serious, so Raven regrets her last jab. He looks at her, in a way that he only does when he’s seeing through someone’s pretenses, what they’re trying to hide. And honestly, Raven hides quite a bit. He does this thing that’s sort of still and observant, and right now, there’s something like fondness and concern radiating off him. But that translates to Raven as pity. And that’s the last thing she’s ever wanted. That’s not even on the list of things she wants. 

“Fucking me isn’t going to make you feel better,” he says bluntly, “Finn is a dick, he doesn’t love you, he stuck it in some other girl. A revenge fuck isn’t going to fix it. End of story. If you want to feel better, you should get your shit out of his dorm, delete his number, and stop being pathetic.”

Raven jaw clenches for a second, and then she gets up, moves to get her toolbox and her radio, and leaves, ignoring Bellamy’s frustrated sigh.

— 

Later on, at her dorm, after crawling in her bed and ignoring her gentle roommate (a sweet girl named Harper) calling her name a few times, trying to get her to go to a party at one of the frat houses, she gets on Facebook, and scrolls through Finn’s friends. She’s ignored all his calls and texts, and Bellamy’s one, ‘ _i’m sorry, i’m an asshole, i should have just fucked you.’_

It’s…well, she’d never though she’d be _that_ girlfriend, but Raven knows Finn’s password, and vise-versa, and it doesn’t take long to look at his messages and find The Blonde. They’d been sending messages back and forth, cat videos and long paragraphs about art and books that Finn always just assumed she’d never get because she was a “science type”. It tapers off, and the last message is from an hour or two ago, saying he’s sorry, that he just wants to explain, and Raven’s hands start shaking.

Her name Clarke Griffin. “’S a fucking stupid name,” she mumbles grumpily, scrolling through her info. She’s a transfer student. From fucking Berkley. She’s actually…well, she’s cute, in that normal, white-bitch-with-blonde-hair-and-blue-eyes way. Her Facebook is a little empty, like she only uses it to talk to Finn, or something. There are only a few recent pictures, and most of them, oddly enough, are with Finn’s roommate, Wells Jaha. Her profile picture is actually them standing with their arms out in one of those corny poses by the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and Raven rolls her eyes. Because she knows Wells is a rich kid from Beverly Hills, and she must be the same. She and Finn would make fun of those girls and now he’s fucking one. 

She can’t really gather much from Clarke Griffin’s Facebook, so she sends her a message from Finn’s, saying she’s Finn’s girlfriend, telling her she needs to talk. Now. 

And then she gets a phone call, “This is Raven,” Raven says, now sat up. Her leg is jostling.

“This is Clarke,” she answers, she sounds so utterly professional and unaffected, that Raven wants to pull her through the phone and kick her ass, “I got your message—“

“Yeah, I fucking figured, you called me,” Raven interrupts, words harsh and biting. She’s extremely pleased when Clarke lets out a breath and continues—

“Look. I’m sorry. Finn never said anything about a girlfriend. Never. I would never…I feel like…”

Raven frowns, because she really was hoping that the other girl was just a slut that wanted to steal her man, and then she could hate Clarke, and not Finn. But, now, she just has to hate Finn. Which is…she doesn’t know. So she asks, “Do you want to go to a party?”

—

The frat house is packed with people, and they’re already drunk, and if hours ago, if Raven hadn’t walked into a room and found her boyfriend’s dick inside of Clarke Griffin, she would be cool. She’s good a drinking games, she’s funny, she has a nice smile. She’s _cool._ But Raven still resents her.

“This is weird,” Clarke says, in her ear, “People don’t find out their boyfriend is cheating on them and then become friends with the other woman.”

Raven snorts bitterly, “We’re not friends.”

At that, Clarke smiles a little awkwardly, and then shrugs, “Yeah. Right, sorry. Um. I’m going to go to the bathroom.” 

When she’s gone, Raven swallows down some sort of…emotion. But, she doesn’t want to be friends with Clarke, not at all. She exactly never wants to see her again. She wants her never to have existed.

“You know, I wasn’t even going to come to this party,” Raven jumps at Clarke’s sudden reappearance. They’re outside, on the porch, drinking trash-can punch with way too much alcohol mixed in. Raven did a keg stand earlier. Clarke killed at beer pong. They’re pretty drunk, “Kind of a shitty day,” she said dryly, “But I wanted to talk to you, and alcohol softens the blow, usually.”

Raven turns to her, “Says who? I could just get belligerent and shit.”

Clarke cocks her head, “Only if you blame me and not Finn,” and after a beat, “Do you?” She looks genuinely interested, not even a little bit mocking, just curious.

But Raven just shrugs, and when she tugs on Clarke’s hand to go to back inside, she ignores how warm and soft it feels in her own. 

They dance, and Clarke smells really sweet, soft, and warm. It’s a combination, they’re close together and she smells like sweat and flowers, but the heat is radiating off her, and the other girl’s chest against her back. Sweet, soft, and warm. And for a second Raven is just drunk enough and Clarke’s lips graze _just briefly_ against that sport between her jaw and the nape of her neck. 

She spins around fast and looks at her. It’s an odd feeling, because she’s never been attracted to a girl before, and this might be shitty timing. Clarke fucked the love of her life, and she’s pretty and blonde and has great boobs, and Raven is really jealous and insecure at the moment. So, wanting to see her naked is just…well, it’s a new development, a very real complication, but this day cannot get any more odd, so she just goes with it. 

“I want to leave,” Raven says, right in her ear, and Clarke squirms, just a bit, shivering.

She nods, looking a little drunk and disoriented,“That’s fine, I can get a ride from one of my friends—“

Raven tries not to think about all the people she saw Clarke talking to in the last couple of hours, because she _would_ have only transferred a month or so ago, and be popular, “No. Like,” she steps closer, and speaks again, right into her ear, “Like I want to leave with you.”

Clarke seems a bit more sober after that, but she frowns and after her eyes search Raven’s face, the blonde girl just says, “Oh.”

—

Clarke would have a single dorm. They didn’t say anything on the way there, and as soon as Clarke opens the door, Raven opens her mouth to complain about the size of her large, private room at the end of the hall, but Clarke, apparently, has other plans. The priority of those plans are up for debate. Even so, she gently pushes her against the door of her large, private room, and kisses her. In just over twelve hours, Raven has kissed more people than she’d never thought she’d kiss in her life. And one of them is a girl. Which is fine with her, but it’s just unexpected. And maybe, just really…well, at this point, it doesn’t matter, because she’s already grabbing her Clarke’s ass, so she should probably concentrate on that rather than the limits of her sexuality (of lack of).

Clarke’s kissing is probably on-par with Bellamy’s, but completely different. Bellamy kisses like he’s trying to control the situation (Clarke is more of a team player). He bites (so does Clarke, but a bit more gentle). But Bellamy had a strict hold on the back of her head, aggressively and possessive and maybe a little playful. Clarke is playing with her jaw and sweeping her fingers down her collar bone and sucking lightly at the plumpness of her bottom lip. Raven kisses back, pushing her until she’s falling on her full-size bed, and she pulls back a bit, not to admire the fact that her bed is a full, and not a twin, but to realize that she probably fucked Finn on it. That Clarke was probably on her back, or on her knees in this room, with Raven’s boyfriend. She looks down at the other girl, her mouth is red, and her eyes are glazed and her hair is mussed. 

And then she dives back in and kisses her hard, take her hands and puts them firmly above her head, and apparently she like that because she’s squirming beneath her, legs wrapped around Raven’s waist. It’s obvious why Finn likes her. Really obvious. She’s smart. She’s cool. She’s pretty. She kisses very well. And Raven actually stares when the girl take off her bra. She’s curvier, fleshier in places than Raven is, who is all slender muscle. And, well—

Raven lays on her back. She’s obviously never had sex with girl. Her chest is heaving as Clarke places open-mouthed kisses on her body, down, down, and then when her mouth reaches _there_ , she notes, _very talented with mouth_.

She knows exactly how to do…everything. Maybe there was something bad about not being with anyone else, maybe if she’d practiced with another guy, or girl, Finn wouldn’t have done what he did. Maybe he was just using Clarke for sex because she was better at it. And then Clarke sucks her clit into her mouth and just forgets all about Finn. The girl’s face is practically buried in her cunt, and it’s good. Really good, so Raven grabs her blonde hair and grinds her pussy in her face, just for good message, and she’s rewarded with a whine Raven can actually feel the vibration from. 

She’s still drunk, both of them are, so there’s no use in trying to keep it down. And Raven doesn’t care, anyway, she doesn’t live in this dorm, fuck it. So she gets as loud as she wants, throws her head back and shows appreciation and encouragement and gets the best orgasm of her life from her boyfriend’s mistress. 

She doesn’t realize she’s actually laughing until Clarke is too, right against her mouth, and they’re kissing again and she can taste herself. She flips them over, and then just Clarke, until her ass is in the air, and Raven just goes for it. It would be weird and fucked up if she just came all over the other girl’s face and then left. Part of Raven wants to go, _‘I’ve never done this before,’_ but she’s not one to be beaten. She always wants to win. And later, then Clarke is crying out into her pillow, and Raven’s fingers are digging into the globes of her (very nice) ass, and kissing, licking, sucking so hard, the sounds are a little obscene, she figures she won.

—

She gets up the next morning, silently, and starts to pick up her clothes. She’s never done the whole, ‘Walk of Shame’ thing before. Never had to. She’s never thought those people were anything less, she just—never experienced it. 

“Are you going to break up with him?” comes right as she slips on her sneaker.

Raven turns around, hair whipping, free of it’s ponytail, and tumbling around her shoulders. Even when Bellamy mentioned it, even after the day she’s had, she never really thought about it. Probably for a reason. Because she was too sad, too angry. “None of your fucking business,” she shoots back, harshly finger combing her hair up, so she can tie it. The sadness and anger that was gone last night is back, and without alcohol or Clarke fucking her she’s right back where she was, when she walked in on Finn with someone else, when her heart shattered. She might even feel worse. Bellamy was right. 

Clarke looks down, her hair is messed up, her makeup is smudged and she has her blanket up and around her chest. She nods, and she looks, somehow, self-assured, like she expected Raven’s response. Raven is right back to hating her.

“You know, I totally get it,” she starts, her voice hard, and after a moment of Raven watching Clarke’s jaw work, the girl looks up, unimpressed.

“Get what?”

“Why Finn was with you.”

“Hmm. And why’s that?”

“You’re a pretty good fuck. Good stress release. Too bad that’s all your good for, otherwise, you know, he probably would have broken up with me.”

Clarke doesn’t even _flinch_ , which makes Raven want to, because she fucking _hates_ herself for saying that, she’s never said anything so horrible, she’s never wanted to take something back so much. It was spiteful, and pathetic. But, instead, she stays quiet, clears her throat and crosses her arms. The embarrassment and the urge to hurt someone else like she’d been hurt takes over human decency. Which sucks.

And then, voice devoid of all emotion, face completely impassive, Clarke says, “Get the fuck out.” 

She makes it back to her dorm and crawls into bed and hopes to whatever is out there controlling fate that she doesn’t ever see Clarke Griffin again.

—

She barges into Bellamy’s apartment just as Bellamy is at his dining table, papers and books littered everywhere. It’s obvious he’s working on a paper. Last time, she hadn’t used her key, this time she does. Which she has. You know, just in case she needs to save Octavia’s life, or something. 

“I’m working on a paper.”

“No one cares about your stupid fucking paper,” she retorts, dryly.

The corners of his mouth lift up just slightly, and he leans back in his chair, expectant, head tilted infuriatingly. She forgives him. There’s really not even anything to forgive. 

“I fucked her.”

Raven has never been more smug than she is at this moment, seeing Bellamy Blake at a loss for words, choking on nothing, incredulous. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then opens them, looks at her with raised eyebrows, “Excuse m—wait…what?”

Raven just shrugs, and gets up, walks to the kitchen to get a beer. She’s underaged, sure, but Bellamy’s never cared. He even lets his sister drink, which probably isn’t a good idea, because she’s seventeen, but Bellamy just shrugged. Octavia never gets too drunk or high, at any case, after that time Bellamy and Raven had to pick her up from a party and he nearly killed her significantly older boyfriend (Raven had to pull him off while Octavia cried), and chewed her out with more ferocity than she’s ever seen. Raven interrupted the screaming match by shoving him back so hard he fell into the door, and spent the entire night in Octavia’s bed, holding her hair back while she threw up. It was a rough night.

“Raven!” Bellamy demands, obviously so into the story. Even though he’s not completely a heterosexual male (she really doesn’t…even know what his sexuality is, to be honest, but she supposes it’s none of her business), he might just be turned on by the thought of two girls having sex. She sure is. She’s also pretty sure this turn of events is not what he expected. 

She sits back down, leaning back across from him at his circular dining room table. She takes a long sip, just because he’s actually really interested in the story and Raven likes to torture people, and he gives her a look that is so severely unimpressed she chuckles and puts him out of his misery.

“So, I’m on Finn’s Facebook—“

“Fucking stalker,” he mutters.

“—Looking her up, see this ridiculously cute blonde chick, and I message her, like, ‘Hey, this is my number call me’ and I invite her to the party—the one you didn’t get invited to, because you’re a loser—“

“—I had shit to do,” he insists, gesturing to the abundance of schoolwork littered across the table. “Why did you invite your boyfriend’s mistress to hang out—“

“Turns out,” Raven rolls her eyes, and swallow down guilt, again, “She didn't even know Finn had a girlfriend. She’s cool. She’s like really good at beer pong, and she dances really well, and she’s, you know, hot,” she gives something like a sigh and a groan, taking a long gulp of her beer, “So we’re dancing, and her boobs are like there, so I’m like, _‘let’s go do it.’”_

“You didn’t say that,” Bellamy said suspiciously, eyes narrowed, and then he asks, “Did you say that?”

Raven makes a face, “Well, no, obviously not, I was like ‘I want to leave with you’ or something, and she’s just like,” Raven gives a too long pause, gives Clarke’s steady, searching gaze to Bellamy, whose cocks his head with an amused look, and then tries to speak in Clarke’s husky tone, _”Oh.”_

Bellamy bursts in laughter, because the situation is totally ridiculous. 

“Then, we go back to her dorm, and we have sex.”

He blinks, and she can see that’s he’s so amused. So fucking amused, “How was it?”

The question he’s been dying to ask. She answers immediately, “Horrible.”

“Alright. So great.”

Raven sets the beer on the table a little harshly, “Nah, it was dumb, I was dry like a desert.”

He takes a deep breath, and lets it out quickly, eyes closed, “Please don’t.”

“Like pavement in one-hundred-and-ten degree weather.”

“Okay.”

She snorts, and then sobers up, “It was good. Like really good. Like crazy good, probably the best sex I’ve ever had.” The mood is down, Raven drags it there. It was the best sex she’d ever had, and that’s the problem, “She’s nice. And smart. Like she was messaging Finn all this stuff about the books and films that he’s always trying to get me into, and she’s like super into social justice and LGBT stuff, and, on top of that? She’s good in bed,” Raven raises her arms and lets them flop down, “It’s…it fucking feels like shit,” she admits, trying to make her tone impassive.

She still hasn’t talked to Finn, at all. She’s avoided her dorm as much as she can, hasn’t been to all her frequent places just in case he’s looking for her. But, hasn’t blocked his calls, or texts. Because, okay, it makes her feel better to see his name flash across her screen and know he still cares, maybe a little bit, even if she’s not going to answer. She’s not sure what she’s going to say to him, what she can say. She doesn’t know if she can stay with him, if she wants to. What emotions will come rushing back when she sees him. Raven would rather just push it down. 

Bellamy blinks once more, slow and searching, “Then? You’re just never going to talk to her again?”

She hesitates, but remembers who she is, and shrugs, “I was a dick to her this morning,” Bellamy pause makes her continue, “I told her Finn didn’t say anything to me about her because she’s nothing but a good fuck.”

Bellamy’s eyes widen, and he’s a dark humor sort, a totally sick fuck that’s only trumped by one John Murphy. He even starts to laughs a little, “That’s fucked up,” and laughs more, “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re a _bitch.”_

“Oh, come on!” she defends, leaning forward, even though she knows Bellamy is right. Completely right, it was uncalled for, Clarke didn’t even know, she _is_ a total bitch, “She fucked Finn. I’ve been in love with him since I was like, nine. Her vagina was on his penis, Bellamy—“

“—Please _don’t—“_

“—And then I wake up, in this girl’s bed, and it’s…I realize, she’s like…she’s perfect for him.”

That’s when Bellamy narrows his eyes, an Raven actually is taken aback at how stern he looks, “Finn is _cunt,_ Raven. I know it. Octavia knows it. Murphy _hates_ him—“

“—Murphy hates everyone but you—“

“—Miller thinks he’s a pretentious douchebag. Monty and Jasper won’t even talk to him after they find out he cheated on you. And now _you_ know he’s a dick. So does this girl, whoever she is—“

“Clarke Griffin.”

At that very moment, Bellamy pales. He coughs and Raven can see, incredibly, that he’s trying to act normal, but his voice is tense when he says, “What?”

“What?”

“What was her name?”

Raven narrows her eyes in suspicion, because she’s always one for dramatics, “Clarke. Griffin. Do you…know her?”

Bellamy looks away, above her head, and his jaw is clenched so tight she thinks he might crack his molars. “Kind of,” he rolls his shoulders to ease the tension away, “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Miller, or something.”

Raven stares at him. The tension in his shoulders, the pop in his jaw. She remembers, suddenly, he refusal to have sex with her. Which, of course, was ridiculous, and she understands, “The girl you like,” she grits out, “The girl you put your coat on puddles for.”

Bellamy gives her a dry look, but it has anxiety, and a little anger on the edges. His left hand clutches and unclenches, which is totally his fucking tell, “I don’t like anyone. I don't do ‘liking’, I’m a grown-ass man—“

“You are such a fucking asshole!” she declares viciously, standing suddenly, and Bellamy rolls his eyes, which is fair, she's being a bit dramatic, “I can’t believe you. You’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to be my friend!” He opens his mouth to speak, and even though she knows she’s being unreasonable, she continues to cut him off, “Did you put your dick in her? That’s why you won’t fuck me. _This is why you won’t fuck me._ Because you think she’s perfect, too!”

“I don’t think she’s perfect!” he shoots back, in disbelief, “She’s a fucking pain my ass!” he yells back, because this is a thing with them. They yell louder and louder until someone stops, from fear or pain (of any kind). “She argues with me in my Art History class, _constantly,_ because she can’t stand being wrong. She’s fucking perfectionist, bordering on _obsessive._ She’s arrogant as fuck, but she thinks she’s _Mother Teresa._ She thinks she’s the most intelligent person in the world, and I should _bow at her fucking feet._ She’s...annoying,” he finishes, crosses his arms, the tiniest bit flushed.

There is a pause that stretches for several seconds, because Raven says in disgust, almost deadpanned, “Oh, my God. You’re in love with her.”

_”What?”_

“You make me sick, Blake,” she shakes her head, and lets him have it, voice low and menacing—

_“This is why I like Octavia more.”_

She savors the genuinely offended look on his face before leaving and slamming the door behind her.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. I hope this hasn't been done. As always, it's unbeta'd, but I tried hard to re-read. I tend to skip because I know in my head what I was trying to write, and...you know.


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